


Alone

by badboy_fangirl



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7239961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lincoln, sad and lonely, indulges in some self-love (post 2x22).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

He was alone in Fox River until Michael showed up.

Now, he’s alone again.

In Panama, without Michael. Oh, Michael’s in Panama, but in some fucked up version of karma, Michael is back in prison.

And Lincoln is alone.

Again.

The way it should have been all along.

The crappy motel room he’s in holds one item of company, a bottle of whiskey.

He slowly and methodically drinks half of it, wondering if some miraculous plan will ferment in his brain by morning so he’ll know exactly how to rescue his brother.

But somehow all the alcohol does is bring to mind the others who have been lost. Specifically _her_. The one he’s tried not to think about for seven long weeks, since she was extinguished in his eardrum.

He throws himself down on the small, lumpy bed, the bottle in his left hand resting against his thigh as his right hand moves across his stomach.

Veronica always liked to unzip his pants and push her hand inside, softly, smoothly, sneakily, depending on their venue.

She liked to stroke him into full arousal and then satisfy the hard-on with her mouth or her body, also depending on the venue.

Or maybe that’s just the way he remembers it.

And because he thought he might celebrate with her when he was free, in just this way, his hand feels like her hand. His fingers contract like hers used to. He hears the guttural noises in his own throat and he’s so hot and ready he can hardly stand it as she leans over him and whispers her lips over the head of his cock. Then her tongue flicks across it and he’s moaning, crying her name through gritted teeth, coming all over both of them, a release more than three years in the making. It’s long and torturous and her fist tightens, dragging the wetness of semen all along his shaft, coating him from base to head, expunging the pleasure in a drawn out moment that lasts and lasts and lasts, his heart pounding, his mind spinning, her hand tightening so much he thinks he’s somehow inside her even though he can’t feel her over him.

He curses God and loves Veronica and misses Michael and somehow its like every other moment of his life, so he finds comfort in the familiarity.

He passes out, but in the morning his resolve glows as he shields his sensitive eyes from the bright sun.


End file.
